Hard Fucker Lady Boy, Coming Up!

**This post is about time, really, and the title has got nothing to do with the content. Nope, nothing at all. Not even spit. That absolutely irrelevant title, however, was mighty amusing. It once issued from one of my funny friends, Alvin, it registered, and I just had to use it somewhere. And there you have it. 

**Meanwhile, on a more personal note, I was actually excited to post this list. 

1. If you're a dude, never mind if you're a gay dude or a lady dude, hell, let me rephrase that. Labels are confusing. Okay, say for instance you have a biological dick, and you're done pissing, or urinating, or peeing, whatever. And you're still shaking it after five seconds, then dude, you're playing with it. And, chances are, you're playing with it in public. Five seconds tops. Perv. 

2. If you find yourself looking at a complete stranger for more than three seconds, then, chances are, you are interested in what you're looking at. Or you are captivated. Or amused. Or aroused. Or he/she is just so bitching ugly that you're still registering the specie of this human shaped deformity. And you can't find the right insult to get started. Don't be hating, you mean motherfucker. 

3. Say for instance you have a biological dick. And you're still trying to pee for more than thirty seconds now. And no piss is being ejected. And there's a burning sensation down your nether regions. And some pus, too. Then you owe your urologist a visit. Get to it. 

4. If you haven't been menstruating for nearly a month now, and you are beginning to worry because you're just sixteen, and you're now scared shit because you cannot be pregnant at such a tender and promising age. And you're a boy. Then, chances are, you are not pregnant. What you are, however, is a tripping homo. 

5. Say for instance you have a biological dick. And you were supposed to get hard twenty minutes ago. You are now horny as hell, but nothing is happening as far as your dick goes. Then, chances are... hahaha, hell, this is just rich. You go ahead and finish this. Or maybe you can't. Hahaha. 

6. Personally, I've had premature ejaculations that had better timing that that corny bitch and her tired "Hinde! Hinde!" spiel. This is a reference to comic timing, and why a lot of those hardcore Vice Ganda wannabes don't get it. 

7. Let me tell you a story. I was sitting on this bus this one time. And I was seated next to, oh sweet mother of Christ, that fine piece of man Carl Guevarra. Anyway, it was a hell of a bumpy ride. And then Carl Guevarra turns to me, his handsome face pleading and hopeful, and says, "Oh Momel! I have this real big problem with motion sickness! And the only proven remedy is a good blowjob. Do you think you can help?" And I said no. 

8. That wet dream up there, number 7, never really happened. 

9. Say for instance you have a biological dick. And you are not number 5 up there. Anyway, it's just two minutes, and you already came... Or ejaculated... Or climaxed... And it's just two minutes, then... hahahaha! Hahahaha! Two fucking minutes?! Hahahaha! For real?! Hahahahaha! Lousy fuck. 

10. If you're this guy, and she hasn't fainted yet after five minutes, then you can try administering a stronger rape drug. Or you can lose the cap and the hood so that she can see your real face. Haha, if I'm such a dick then why are you still reading me? 

How to Be Rude: Directions

If you were on the 20th floor of the Galleria Holiday Inn, and you jumped out of your hotel room twenty floors down to your death by massive impact, then it's a sure bet that we will be looking at your unsightly, mangled remains as it lay undisturbed near our smoking area. That's how close we are to the Galleria Holiday Inn.

 

So I was at work this one time, and I decided to take a break from my kinky night job. I was on the night shift, and it was three in the morning. I was enjoying a cigarette when this woman, in her thirties, I suppose, called out my attention. I decided that she was asking for directions, because she was shouting "Puwede pong magtanong/ Can I ask you a question?" from a distance. That distance was a good eight or nine feet away from my smoking coolness.

That's how it usually is in the third world. It's usually for directions when a total stranger addresses you with that familiar, high pitched urgency. Unless, of course, they want to know if you are interested in having a "good time." "Good time, ser?" No, they don't think that you look a little on the down side and can use some cheering up. They think that they need to get you some pussy. Or a mouthful of cock. Whatever. A "good time" is street talk for a sexual solicitation. And it should not be confused with actual good will because that is exactly what a six-year old child will believe. And you are not six years old.

And besides, there is no way in this God forsaken outsourcing third world that That bitch was soliciting me for sex. Oh madre de dios hell no. I could smell my homo from your side of the internet.

Anyway, she was maybe five foot four, scrawny, had a mess of long, thin hair, and she was wearing what appears to be matching office garbage. It was three in the morning, and there was very little light with which to support my judgment, so I could be wrong. It might not look as masterfully tailored in broad daylight. Again, I could be wrong. But I doubt it.

She approached me, and she was about three feet away from me when she started reading from this piece of paper in her right hand. And she asked me, loudly, "Alam niyo po kung saan yung Gallery Holiday I-N-N/ Do you know where the Gallery Holiday I-N-N is?" Yes, she spelled it out, and I'm not kidding. Her face was smiling and visibly clueless; it was some absolutely hilarious shit. But it didn't sound right, clarifications are in order, so I puffed me a good one, and I asked, "Ah, baka yung Galleria Holiday Inn/ Do you mean the Galleria Holiday Inn?" She briefly consulted that piece of paper she was holding in her right hand, looked back at me dismissively, and she said, "Hindi po. Yung Gallery Holiday I-N-N po/ No, the Gallery Holiday I-N-N."

Obviously, she was referring to the Galleria Holiday Inn, but her insistent emphasis on the spelling was just beyond me. So I told her "Ay hindi ko alam yan/ I have no idea." And I gave her a practiced smile, which is the facial equivalent of " leave me alone, stupid," and I lit another cigarette to drive the message home.